This is a story of a young girl whisked away by a enegmatic alien race. She faces many challages as she grows up in this strange place where space travel is as ordinary as walking down a street. The telsian race is a elete race of telepaths that rule the

(WARNING!!!! There is violence in this chapter. If you are sensitive please don't read it. This is it folks the end of the story. It's been quite the ride for me. Thank you all for reading and reviewing. I am planing an epilogue, but it isn't written yet and I don't know when I will be able to finish it. I just started a new job and it has me jumping through hoops. Thanks again. LadySesshoumaru41)

Chapter 51… (51-90)

Lydia awoke to find herself bound naked on the bed again.

Shakarr stood in front of the sink by the far wall, cleaning his wounds from the fight with Lydia. Although his back was turned to her, she could tell he was being extra careful with his face- though she couldn't remember ever striking his face. It was mostly his arms and legs with a few landing on his body. 'I'm still alive?'

Lydia closed her eyes and shoulders began to shake as she started to laugh.

Shakarr didn't turn around. Speaking aloud, he asked, "What do you find so amusing about your situation? I'm going to make you suffer for what you did to me." His raspy voice sounded odd in her ears.

"You are truly pathetic, Shakarr. Do you know that? You are such a scary, big man the way you abduct and rape women. Does that somehow make you feel powerful? Perhaps it makes you feel that you have some control in your worthless life."

"Shut up!" he hissed.

"Wait a minute!" She raised her head and looked at him with a critical eye. "What's wrong with you? Why aren't you using your mind skills? Do you have a headache or something?"

"This is the eye of the storm," he said. "This is the calm before all seven hells break loose on you." As his head turned slightly, Lydia caught a glimpse of the right side of his head. He looked like he had been struck by a flaming club. There were extensive bruising, blisters on his face and an ugly venous pattern that spread through the new bald spot that ran from his temple to the back of his head.

Her golden-brown eyes grew wide as she looked at his disfigured face. "What happened to your head? I didn't hit you there."

Shakarr turned toward her, exposing further injury. His right eyeball was completely engorged with blood. "You pretend ignorance? Don't think for a moment that this condition you put me in will last forever! Your telekinetic powers are impressive, but you caught me off guard. When my mind powers return, I'll finish this once and for all!" He set the thermostat to maximum, staggered out of the room, leaving her in the darkness to suffer in the sweltering heat.

After spending several cenchrons in the company of his personal physician, Shakarr was fuming. Lydia had yet to break and he found that frustrating. His plan; besides enjoying punishing what he felt was an upstart, overstepping her rightful place in the world, was to gain control of the throne. He needed to control the girl to do that. Plinn would never allow her to be punished for something he had done or failed to do. He also wouldn't abandon his wife.

Telsian law forbade any interference in the master slave relationship. If the girl could be forced to call him master, then he would have the right to harm her in any way he pleased. Plinn would do anything to avoid that and so would either abdicate the throne or take his direction from him. Either way he would have what he wanted – control of the throne and revenge against that worthless plede that had humiliated him.

One of his servants, a common plede, chased him down in the hall as he made his way back to Lydia's cell. "Milord! I beg to report!"

"Not now, Jaxin!"

"But, master, it's a matter of utmost importance. The lords…"

Shakarr backhanded Jaxin, knocking him against the wall. He glared down at the errant plede. 'That is not quite as satisfying as watching him writhing in the pain of a mind blast, but it will have to do,' he thought to himself.

Jaxin shook his head and blinked. "But, milord, the rebels are…"

Shakarr hissed at the man, "I'm dealing with my own rebel problems right now. Get out of here before I break your foolish neck!"

"It was a pleasure serving you, lord," Jaxin said, with a touch of sarcasm. He turned around and walked away, muttering to himself under his breath too low to be heard. Again, Shakarr wished he could read and break the plede's mind.

He entered the room where he kept the girl. "Awake I see. Good. Now where were we? Oh yes I was going to beat you senseless. That is, unless you want to escape my wrath. All you have to do is say one word." He leaned in close to her face. "Come now, plead for me. I want to see you beg for mercy."

Lydia spit in his face, barely missing the temporary eye patch. :Never!: she shouted mentally at him. The forced telepathy rattled his injured brain like an over- amped speaker – painfully. :I wont do it. You will have to kill me.:

"Kill you? Oh no, my dear sweet lady, I wouldn't dream of letting you off that easily." He cooed as he brushed the spittle from his veil then abruptly smacked her across the face.

The battle of wills was on again, just like the night before. Lydia continued to proclaim her title and to demand his surrender. Again, he raped her with increased violence and depravity.

Frustrated, he dismounted and took the strap and began to beat her with it. Every few blows he would stop and demand that she call him master, but she refused. She refused even to shed a tear for him.

"You are a fool woman. I can do this all day. Can you endure it? End this now! Call me master and I will stop."

"Go to hell, you demon spawn." Lydia was in too much pain again to use her mind skills, but her determination was intact. "I'll never call you that."

"Fine! If this is how you want it, so be it!" Again, Shakarr beat Lydia fiercely with the strap. Lydia fell silent, her eyes lost focus as she drifted off. He checked her pulse… 'She's still alive.'

"Fine! Play dead. I'm going to let you rest for a moment, but as you do, I want you to think about this. I have with me close to thirty men. Men who, like myself, resent having a common fugin for a queen. Men who would love nothing more than to come in here and have a little special time with you. The next time I come in here you had better give in and call me master or I will call them in and I will not allow them to stop until they have all had their turn with you. Then if you behave, I may let you let you call me master. Think carefully, girl. Thirty men can do a lot of damage.

Lydia was in shock. His voice was nothing but an incomprehensible buzz at the end of a long, dark tunnel.

"Sir, we've arrived at Utrang. The advance forces have knocked out the orbiting planetary defense grid as well as the communication array. The planet is wide open. Shall we begin the assault on the palace?"

Quinn got up from the command chair and strode to the front viewport. 'Chanet was right. All of Shakarr's forces are away. I guess we can trust Plinn after all. Not that we have any choice. Chanet is under his control now. He can find us wherever we go.

'She said that if we could get the queen back that the Sovereign would give a favorable ear to our demands for reforming the dominion. It's worth the risk,' he thought for a moment.

"Yes, the sooner we get in there and get her out the better. Have the medical bay standing by. We don't know what shape the queen will be in when we get her back. Remind them that they have to take care to add a sedative to the Wellon gel or she will have a bad reaction. Move out."

Quinn stood for a moment and hefted the large bag of jewels in his hand. 'I hope this works, Chanet. I'm going to be walking into a bee's nest of telepaths. This won't be easy to pull off.' Then he turned and headed to the docking bay and his own mission.

Shakarr was too preoccupied with his victim to worry about the commotion in the hallway outside. His ears were still ringing from Lydia's telekinetic attack, so he couldn't comprehend the shouting voices.

"It sounds like my men are getting anxious to have their turn with you, my dear. Unfortunately for them, I grow impatient with your defiance. This is your last chance. I'm not going to ask again. Call me master now, or I'll throttle the life out of you."

Lydia gasped for air as his fingers tightened around her throat. No longer bound, she was too weak to resist. "I am… your…"

Shakarr leered, anticipating her surrender. Death or servitude – one who loves life so much and one who has always served with such enthusiasm would surely submit in her dying breath. He loosened his grip just enough to let her finish saying, 'I am you servant, Master.'

Lydia choked out the words, "…queen. Surrender now and submit to…"

Her esophagus collapsed under the pressure of his thumbs. Lydia could no longer emit a sound, yet her mouth continued to silently defy him. He eyes rolled back and involuntary spasms rattled her body.

The door opened behind him. "Shakarr, the last time I saw you, you were doing almost exactly the same thing, bullying little school girls for their lunch money," Rabishi Quinn said as he sauntered into the room.

Stunned, Shakarr released the unconscious queen and stood to face the rebel leader. There were several other lords out side in the hallway, laying prone at gunpoint.

Lydia's breath rattled in her throat and she coughed.

Quinn smirked. "You haven't changed much in four years… except… Damn! What happened to your face?"

"Quinn! You have a lot of gall showing up here!"

Quinn raised his hand. "Before you put any ideas of pain and suffering in my head, if any of my people feel like they're getting a migraine of any level, they are under orders to kill you and every one of your friends and servants."

Shakarr laughed. "By now, my militia has you ship surrounded and are bearing down on you position here. You won't have time…"

"Actually, we've already dealt with your defenses. We mined the Greeves Belt and I'm not taking about harvesting minerals. The ships that weren't instantly destroyed were badly crippled. Your satellite network has been destroyed and your planet-side armored garrisons are pinned down by orbital bombardment."

"You'll pay for this!" Shakarr screamed in his fury.

"Oh! Yeah that reminds me." Quinn tossed a bag the jewels to him. "Sorry I was late with the rent. I appreciate you allowing us to occupy the neighboring sector in order for us to rebuild our forces. However, you've really got to extend your grace period." He smiled broadly at the angry lord.

"Sending your entire fleet to collect the tribute after being only three days late is a bit heavy handed don't you think? Eviction notice received. We're moving on. The rebel fleet is more powerful than ever, thanks to your help, but I'm afraid we've out grown you."

Shakarr glanced toward the lords lining in the hall. They were all glaring at him. "No… He's lying! We never had any such deal!" he stammered.

Quinn motioned to the semi-conscious woman on the bed. "Oh and thanks so much for abducting the queen for us, she'll draw a handsome ransom from the Sovereign. Sixty-forty right?" He knelt down beside Lydia and covered her with his cloak.

Shakarr's eyes widened as he noticed the lords glaring harder. He ached all over as their collective hate pummeled his mind. He stumbled toward the door. "It's not true! Read my mind! I never made such a deal with him."

He got what he wished for, unfortunately for him, the damage Lydia caused coupled with the multiple mind probes, sent him into a seizure- his mind blocked the truth and drove him into a coma.

Quinn carefully carried Lydia out, protecting her from further injury and covering her to protect her from further disgrace. They took her directly the ship's medical facilities. The physicians tending her later told Quinn that if he had been any later in arriving she would have died of her wounds.

"She's strong, that girl. She has some fight in her," the doctor said.

"Yeah, she certainly does." Quinn said turning away, he added, "I don't think anyone else would have survived the hell he put her through."

The throne-room was packed with lords and ladies, elders and the lords of the crimson council as Lydia, queen of the Advatarian Dominion dressed in full regalia made her entrance. Veltrop broke protocol and stood as his queen led the procession.

She walked straight-backed toward her king and husband. To her right, in the position of honor were Rabishi Quinn and Chanet Galoss. Trailing behind her and to her left was Shakarr, shackled at the hands and feet and led on a leash around his neck. He walked with his head hung in shame like a beaten dog. He had been striped both of his clothing and his rank. Many of the onlookers turned away in disgust.

Sovereign Plinn would pronounce judgment on him invoking the Crimson Code, a dreadful set of punishments designed to deter anyone from acting against the royal family. He would be slowly tortured to death over three months. Doctors would keep him alive as Veltrop would gradually whittled away his extremities until nothing was left.

Lydia paused at the foot of the stairs and handed the lead over to Quinn. In accordance with custom Lydia bowed and waited for the invitation to ascend the stairs.

Veltrop extended his hand and she started to climb the stairs. Lydia still weak from her ordeal, she faltered halfway up.

Veltrop could no longer hold himself back. He hurried down the stairs and scooped her up in his arms.

Lydia fell into his arms, leaning her head against his chest, she looked up into his intense blue eyes. :My king,: she said, smiling behind the pale violet veil as tears filled her golden-brown eyes. :He never broke me, Veltrop. I am still your queen.:

Veltrop hugged her close, rubbing her back gently. He kissed her lightly on the forehead. :My dear, sweat Lydia. I have you back. You will always be my queen. May the suns of the Erthrial never set upon our love.:

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